RIP Jesse Allen

[bloke]

This is my high school mentor (adulting and tuba playing) who was the son of a railroad widow, lived in a two bedroom house with a gravel driveway, never had one tuba lesson, auditioned into the Army in the 12th grade (with a Conn 36K fiberglass sousaphone), and was kicked upstairs into Pershing's Own the next year.

A fellow D.C. bandsman had this to say upon news of his passing:
"wonderful man, a fine musician. I learned a great deal about character from Jesse. Love to his family."

He saved money from his military pay, and bought a new 186 B-flat.
When in Pershing's Own, he was handed a Hirsbrunner C tuba, shrugged his shoulders, and played it.

His teenage life goals were to get in to some sort of military band (surely...?? so as to avoid being sent to Vietnam), marry his high school sweetheart, move to Nashville, and get some sort of decent-paying job. After one stint in Pershing's Own, he had accomplished all of those, and then went on to raise a beautiful family and provide for them. (When he left the Army, he immediately handed me that 186, and asked me to sell it for him. A few decades later, he decided to play the tuba and euphonium once again.)

He was such an extremely GOOD person, that it was just a bit humbling to be in his presence.
...a life extremely well-lived.

[bort2.0]

So sorry, Joe... we've heard that story about the 36K so many times from you before... it obviously left a lasting impression on you throughout your life. Really sorry to hear about this fine person's passing.

[the elephant]

Thanks for sharing that information. Rest in peace, Mr. Allen.

[bloke]

So sorry, Joe... we've heard that story about the 36K so many times from you before... it obviously left a lasting impression on you throughout your life. Really sorry to hear about this fine person's passing.

Sitting next to him for a couple of years and hanging out with him are what made the impressions.

He - not any teacher - taught me what a tuba is supposed to sound like, and it was he - more than any teacher - who taught me how to phrase. He faithfully attended "primitive" Baptist churches his entire life, and sang (sincerely and musically) out of shaped notes hymnals.

He really didn't have (what would be considered) a widely acceptable mouthpiece until he was in the 12th grade - when one of the local stores finally began stocking Conn Hellebergs (gold with silver shank), I tried following his lead, but - not knowing the difference - ended up with the smaller 7B version (which didn't suit me). Prior to that, he played a Holton 52 (which appeared to swallow up his face).

By the time he graduated, he already had a full beard and badly-thinning hair.

In the 12th grade, he played the fastest/cleanest/prettiest rendition of "Beelzebub" (theme and variations) that you could ever imagine...and with the 36K.

He worked a very large paper route from junior high through graduation - c. 4 AM to 6:30 AM, seven days a week. This kept gas in his mother's car, and covered his own school clothes, food, and other expenses (plus whatever etude books he could find in the local stores). He also went through the school band's extensive library (music, and not "band pieces"). His sight reading resembled most anyone's polished performances, and it was likely this skill set that bumped him up into a DC band...(well...everything...including incredible speed/clean playing/the entire package).
I doubt that throwing papers paid much more than 75 cents to a dollar an hour, after settling up with the paper man. (Back then, kids were also required to collect the money individually from the newspaper customers in cash, and turn it in monthly to the "paper man".) He was an A & B student, not being much for studying, but being devoted to practicing several hours every evening. He wasn't going for any sort of college deferment or scholarship, but (again) for a military band job, because he wanted to marry his sweetheart and be able to support her.

With his father dead from leukemia and his mother having to work, he became a man at a very young age, and it was very good (for me) to be around someone like that.

LOL...After being placed first in the All-State Band for several years (wide open to band students of all ages, during that era), he managed to remove the CONN decal from his bell, and replaced it with one (very small) from a 1/24 scale model car kit that boasted

"Competition
Proven"

[Rick Denney]

I think the Redhead and I have attended 17 funerals since the beginning of 2021 when my father passed. We are at that age, it seems--the long-lived of the generation before is finally passing, and plenty of people our age are going as well.

It doesn't get any easier, even when we celebrate a life of beauty and accomplishment. When C.S. Lewis died, J.R.R. Tolkein, who was his good friend of old, described it as an "axe into a deep root". (Both were in their 60's at the time.) Age (hopefully) brings wisdom and perspective, but as I said, this doesn't get any easier.

Rick "whose suit would prefer not being needed quite so often" Denney